


What it Means to Belong

by RubyDragonQueen



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: ADHD Character, Autistic Character, Dwemer Ruins, Gen, I'll add more characters as they show up in the story, It's the Dovahkiin, Mom Friend Lydia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24947116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyDragonQueen/pseuds/RubyDragonQueen
Summary: The story of the last Dovahkiin, an Argonian named Hectae, as told by everyone she's come to care for in all her travels across Skyrim, as she becomes more confident in both her newfound powers and in herself.Following my first full playthrough of Skyrim as the Dovahkiin gets up to all sorts of trouble and starts to understand why she is the way she is, and to be happy with it.
Comments: 19
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1- Lydia

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever posted fic- I've done a fair bit of writing before but this is the first big project I've done in a while. I have no planned update schedule, though I do have a vague outline for the entire arc of the fic, so as of now I fully intend to finish it.

When Lydia first saw the Dovahkiin, all she could think was “That’s it?” The rest of Dragonsreach seemed to be thinking the same thing, staring down at this scrawny burgundy-scaled argonian, who strode right up to the Jarl dressed in ill-fitting, mismatched armor. 

One hand twitched on her axe, eyes darting around the room awkwardly before settling on the Jarl. Even then, she wouldn’t look him directly in the eye like a proud warrior.

The Dovahkiin looked thoroughly unimpressive, less like a figure of legend and more like a thief who lucked out, or perhaps an underequipped mercenary- she couldn’t have been much past reaching adulthood! Lydia, as far as she had thought of the dragonborn as anything more than a distorted legend, had expected an imposing nord man, not… Whatever this was.

Lydia waited on the side as the Dovahkiin continued talking to the Jarl, not bothering to listen- she already knew the Dovahkiin was being granted Breezehome for her service in slaying a dragon.

She broke away from the other court members as the Dovahkiin handed some money over to Avenicci to get some proper furniture brought in to Breezehome over the next couple of days.

As the Dovahkiin turned to walk out, Lydia came up alongside her.

“The Jarl has appointed me to be your housecarl, my Thane.”

“Thane?” The Dovahkiin spoke in a low, raspy voice, continuing to stare straight ahead rather than look Lydia in the eyes- perhaps this was normal for argonians, Lydia wouldn’t know.

“Yes,” Lydia responded, “The Jarl has recognized you as a person of great importance in the hold, a hero, and has granted you the title of Thane as a gift for your service. As thane, you get a housecarl sworn to your service, in your case, myself. I am sworn to fight alongside you and help carry your burdens.”

The Dragonborn simply continued walking towards the exit as Lydia talked, pushing open the doors before Lydia could come forward and open them for her.

The rest of the walk to Breezehome was made in silence, aside from the chirping of morning birds overhead, the chatter of the marketplace, and of course the droning of the priest of talos eternally emanating from the upper square. 

Many of the merchants and townsfolk kept stealing looks at the Dovahkiin as they passed- she may have been seen around Whiterun a fair bit over the last couple of days, but seeing an argonian at all in Whiterun was notable, even discarding everything else the Dovahkiin had been up to.

Once they reached Breezehome, Lydia paused on the doorstep behind the Dovahkiin, and gave a stern look to several of the townsfolk who had been staring at the Dovahkiin. 

Lydia stepped into Breezehome, properly taking in the new home she and her Thane would be staying in for the foreseeable future. The first floor was practically bare, and would have to be cleaned extensively when the furniture was brought in. The second floor had a pair of doors leading to other rooms, but was otherwise nearly as bare. 

She’d overheard Avenicci talking to the Jarl earlier about what furnishings were in the home as of present, and knew the smaller room for the left contained a single bed and bedside table for herself, and the larger room directly above the main room was set aside for the Dovahkiin. 

Lydia followed the Dovahkiin up the stairs into the Dovahkiin’s room, standing back as she assessed the double bed and large chest she’d been given.

The Dovahkiin remained silent as she pulled out a variety of pelts, ores, bones, jewelry, books, and other miscellaneous spoils from Talos knows where and dumped them all into the chest haphazardly, before simply falling into the bed. She didn’t even bother to remove any of her armor. 

The Dovahkiin stretched out and curled up on top of the covers, holding one of the pillows to her chest.

Lydia took a moment to observe the Dovahkiin- her new Thane, the person she’d be serving for the rest of her career- in more detail. 

She had brilliant orange scales adorning her brow ridges and cheekbones, darker red scales running along the top of her head, and bright red patches on what Lydia supposed passed for cheeks on an argonian. The deep recesses her eyes sat in were blue, though Lydia had no idea if that was a possible scale color or merely war paint of some kind. Her horns were short and curved inwards, and three long scars cut along the left side of her face, going over her eye and only stopping at the spines on her brow ridge.

The Dovahkiin opened her eyes (Solid blue, Lydia couldn’t see a pupil- could the Dovahkiin even see properly?) and lifted her head up.

“My Thane?” Lydia asked.

“...Hectae.”

“Pardon?” Lydia stood up a little straighter.

“That’s m’name. Call me by it.”

“Ah, of course my Th- I mean, Hectae.”

The Dovahkiin- Hectae- nodded, and curled back into herself, burying her face into the pillow. 

Lydia sighed and walked over to her own room. The Dovahkiin had been up all night with the guards, facing off against the dragon, so Lydia supposed she deserved a rest. She pulled out a book she’d bought from Bethelor a few days back about combat tactics and settled onto her bed to read.

About an hour later, as best Lydia could tell, she could hear the Dovahkiin yawning and moving towards the stairs.

Lydia slid out of bed and walked out into the hall. “My Thane? Ah, Hectae?”

The Dovahkin paused, tilting her head towards Lydia.

“Are you heading out of the city? I am sworn to protect you, and travel by your side, and-”

Hectae shook her head. “Wanna be alone for a while. Just easier.” She looked towards Lydia. “Guard the house?”

Lydia sighed and nodded. She couldn’t make the dovahkiin take her along, much as she might want to. “Let me at least follow you to the gates then.”

The Dovahkiin continued walking, making no protest as Lydia followed her. As she left town, Lydia just watched from the gates, sighing.

“Real odd duck, that one.” One of the guards at the gate mumbled.

“You didn’t see her in action!” The other said. “She ran straight up at the dragon as soon as it landed, hacking away at it with an axe and a flame spell. Pretty amazing to see.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that she’s certainly a strange one,” replied the first guard. “‘Sides, aren’t all the dragonborn supposed to be of the old imperial line or something like that? An Argonian as dragonborn seems fishy to me.”

“Watch how you speak about your new Thane.” Lydia cut in.

A faint shout of “FUS”, followed by someone yelling about cabbages, could be heard in the distance.

“Some Thane.”


	2. Chapter 2- Arengir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hectae finally finds her way up to High Hrothgar, long past when the Greybeards had been expecting her.

The auroras of Skyrim’s night sky shone brightly overhead, shimmering greens and blues filtering through the sparse wispy clouds across the night sky. In Arengir’s opinion, the auroras were the most beautiful of Kyne’s creations. Though they may not provide like the rains, sometimes a thing’s purpose for existing need not be complex. They brought beauty to the land, and that was enough.

And yet all the beauty in the world may mean nothing soon enough should the Dragonborn not answer their summons. They had called out for the dragonborn as soon as they sensed their awakening, but it had been weeks and the dragonborn was yet to arrive.

Had they perhaps forsaken their duty? It should have been enough time for them to come, even from the furthest corners of the realm, unless they decided to either forestall their destiny or avoid it entirely. Perhaps, though Arengir loathed to think it, they may have been killed, or otherwise prevented from coming by force- unlikely though it was, he could not fully push aside the possibility.

Wulfgar laid a hand on Arengir’s shoulder, pulling him back from his thoughts. Arengir turned to him as Wulfgar lifted his hand to sign back to him.

“They will come. Patience.” Wulfgar lowered his hand after the final sign, tucking his arms back within his robes.

Arengir merely nodded in response. Worry would solve nothing.

Wulfgar picked up the cup of tea Arengir had let go cold while lost in thought, and both of them walked back into the halls together.

Wulfgar gently pushed him towards the sleeping space, and Arengir finally relaxed. The Dragonborn would come in time, and in the unlikely event it was in the next couple of hours, Wulfgar could wake him, surely they could wait that long to have someone to talk to them.

It was only natural perhaps, Arengir thought, that the Dragonborn would arrive as soon as he had resolved himself to wait without worry and was able to sleep properly.  
He had been shaken awake by Wulfgar after far too little sleep, and soon the four of them were headed to the main hall to greet the Dragonborn.

An Argonian woman stood in the entryway, dressed in ill-fitting vampire armor, armored boots clearly not made for argonian feet, and a simple jeweled circlet resting on her brow.

She didn’t seem to have spotted the Greybeards yet, simply staring off into the distance, gently rocking back and forth and flapping her hands up and down near her chest.

As they all came into full view, she froze and jumped into a stiffer stance, walking forward to meet them in the center of the main hall.

“So, a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age,” he spoke, walking down the steps to stand in front of her, as the other Greybeards followed behind him.

“Dragonborn.” She tilted her head to the side. “What does that mean?”

“First,” Arengir said, “Let us see if you are truly Dragonborn. Let us taste of your voice.”

She nodded and stepped back, letting out a powerful “FUS” that sent several (fortunately empty) baskets flying around the room.

Arengir smiled. “Dragonborn. It is you. Welcome to High Hrothgar.”

She smiled right back, “Thank you...?”

“I am Arengir, I speak for the Greybeards- Borri, Einarth, and Wulfgar. Now te-”

“I’m Hectae!” She seemed to notice she was speaking over him a second too late, freezing and looking away deferentially, twisting the cord of her necklace around her fingers.

“No need to fear us Dragonborn, we are here to guide you in the Way of the Voice, it is our duty to aid you.”

Hectae visibly relaxed, hand dropping to her side. “Way of the Voice? What does that mean? And, what does it mean that I’m dragonborn? Why did you summon me?”

“We summoned you as it is our duty to guide the Dragonborn, just as we have guided those of Dragon Blood that came before you.”

“More… people like me?” Hectae asked.

“There have been many of Dragon Blood since Akatosh first bestowed that gift upon mortalkind. However, you are the only one of this era as far as has been revealed to us- it is highly unlikely you will encounter another.”

She nodded, eyes darting around the room.

“Do I still have your attention, Dragonborn?”

She tensed up again, turning to face him head on, with an almost eerie stare.

“Without training, you have already taken the first steps towards projecting your voice into a Thu’um, a shout. When you shout, you speak in the language of dragons. Thus, your dragon blood gives you an inborn ability to learn Words of Power. All Words of Power are made up of three parts, each of which will make the Word progressively stronger. Now, let us see how you learn- Master Einarth will now teach you Ro, the second word of Unrelenting Force.”

As the other masters stepped up to show Hectae how to use the shout, and provide targets to train on, Arengir took a second to think on what he’d seen of the Dragonborn so far. She was very talented in the voice, far beyond what they had expected, using Ro with fluid ease within minutes.

And yet, for all that power, she carried herself not like a master, but like a scared child awaiting a reprimand. Especially when she had unintentionally interrupted him.

Perhaps a noble had been cruel to her for speaking out of turn in the past- Prior to joining the Greybeards, he knew of many who would do such a thing, even without considering if the offender was one of the beast races.

Still, her status as Dragonborn should offer her some protection within Skyrim, and as was the duty of the Greybeards, she would always have High Hrothgar as a sanctuary to retreat to should she be in need.

As Hectae finished demonstrating her Unrelenting Force shout against the third and final target, she turned to look to him.

“Impressive. Your Thu’um is precise. We will conduct your next trial in the courtyard, come morning. Master Einarth will show you to the beds, we have several vacant ones you can rest on if you so wish.”

* * *

“We will now see how you learn a completely new shout. Master Borri will teach you Wuld, which means Whirlwind.”

The second test of Hectae’s abilities passed quickly, and confirmed beyond all shadows of doubt- she was most assuredly the dragonborn they had been waiting for.

Hectae walked up to him after demonstrating the Whirlwind shout, standing in front of him expectantly.

“Your quick mastery of the Thu’um is astonishing. I had heard tales of the Dragonborn, but to see it for myself…”

“What does it really mean, to be Dragonborn?” Hectae asked. “I’ve heard- lots of people have said stuff. In songs and taverns and in books, about a hero, a warrior, about the old emperors, but. It conflicts with itself a lot.”

“To be dragonborn is to be born with the gift of the dragon blood. Very rarely, Akatosh bestows the blood and soul of a dragon upon a mortal, which gives them the ability to naturally learn and speak with the Thu’um, the tongue of dragons, the words of power you were just taught. Many dragonborn in the past have been of the Septim line, and many believed it is passed through royal blood, but that is falsehood- Akatosh merely chose to bless each one.”

Hectae looked down at her hands. “A dragon’s soul…”

Arengir cleared his throat to call her attention. “We have a task for you, a final trial- retrieve the Horn of our founder, Jurgen Windcaller, from Ustengrav. Then, we will show you the way to our Grandmaster, Paarthunax.” He laid a hand on her shoulder, “Trust in your own abilities and in the Thu’um you wield, and your destiny will make itself clear.”  
He pulled back for a small bow. “Sky above, voice within.”

For all her hesitance in herself when talking to him, her strength in the Thu’um shone through brightly, and the armor and weapons she’d managed to acquire were those of a skilled and resourceful warrior.

The fate of all of Tamriel could have been in far worse hands.


	3. Chapter 3-Katria 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hectae finds her way into arkngthamz, and discovers it's far more than just another dwarven ruin.

Katria had been alone here for a long time. Adventurers had come in here before her, their corpses were proof enough of that- but none since. (She tried to ignore her own corpse, draped over an exposed pipe, her own ghostly form. It didn’t help.)

She was partially to blame for her own loneliness, scaring off all the adventurers that happened upon Arkngthamz, but she didn’t want anyone else to die the same way she did, and this place was far more dangerous than your standard dwarven ruin.

This adventurer however, was proving far more stubborn than all the rest. An Argonian who strode into the ruins without a speck of fear, ignoring her warnings of danger, merely drawing the spiked mace from her hip rather than considering that maybe this wasn’t a great place to explore or turning back.

No, in fact she just seemed emboldened by Katria’s warnings. 

Soon she’d be far enough in for Katria to manifest fully and actually speak to her about why, precisely, this place is a deathtrap. (And maybe, if she isn’t cowed by that- maybe she could finish what Katria had spent so long working towards.)

Katria withdrew to the chasm to wait for the adventurer to reach it- the vast gaping hole in the ruins torn apart by the tonal resonators. 

The adventurer walked out into the chasm, staring with awe at the vast rift in the ruins, pausing to bounce on her toes and flap her hands before taking her mace in hand and striding forward, excitement radiating from her twitching tail.

The argonian noticed Katria’s body, sliding cautiously down the pipes to reach her.

“Here for the treasure?” Katria asked, appearing behind the argonian.

She jumped up, shrieking, and swung her mace through Katria with force that probably would have killed in one blow had she still been corporeal.

“Wow. Way to greet someone.” Katria deadpanned.

The Argonian tilted her head to the side. “Not hostile? Hm.”

“If I wanted you dead do you think I’d announce my presence?”

“Most ghosts I’ve seen don’t talk. Just attack mindlessly.” The argonian shrugged.

“Well, what are you here for? You didn’t leave when I told you to turn back- this place really is dangerous you know. Far more so than your standard dwarven ruin.”

The argonian shrugged. “I’ve seen worse. Was curious, the warnings intrigued me.”

Great, Katria had a suicidally curious adventurer on her hands. She should probably introduce herself and explain things before their conversation got too far off track. “The name's Katria. I am - was - an adventurer. Raided ruins like this for nigh on twenty years. I was on the trail of something big. It led me here, and... I didn't make it.”

“Well, duh.” The Argonian was now investigating Katria’s corpse. “This is you.” She paused for a second. “I’m Hectae.”

“Good to know.” Katria replied. 

“I think I’ve heard your name before? In a book.”

“The Aetherium wars?”

She nodded. “Fascinating. I think that Dwemer stuff is…amazing. I always like learning about it. I thought the theory about the forge was super cool.”

“That was my theory, you know. My research. My life's work. All of it, lost! Stolen by my own damn apprentice! That's how I ended up here. I can't rest. Not until I find the Forge, until I can prove that it was my discovery. Mine, not his!”

“Alright then.” Hectae shrugged, pocketing Katria’s journal.

“That despicable, plagiarizing- what?” 

“You want to finish figuring some of that stuff out? I do too. And then I can tell people that it was your research.”

“That… works. Alright, I’ll lead you through here as best I can, and we can figure this out together.”

Katria paused, gathering her thoughts on what would be most important to let Hectae know about. “I died here initially when I triggered a massive earthquake by doing something wrong with some of the dwemer machinery- I’ll let you know if we get near anything especially dangerous on that front. Beyond that? Well, there’s the Falmer to start with,” she deadpanned, “deadly rapids, major earthquakes, massive chasms, lethal falls. And then you get to the real danger.”

Hectae just smiled in response, looking at the path ahead. “Sounds fun.” She waved a small journal in her hand- and awfully familiar- “Isss it… okay if I read your stuff?”

Katria sighed. “Might as well. If I remember correctly, I wrote down some useful stuff in there.”

She nodded, tucking it into… somewhere. It didn’t really look like her outfit had pockets, so who knows where she put it.

“Let’s go then!” she chirped, walking across the dwemer pipes to bridge the gap to the other side, walking right towards falmer territory, as Katria prepared for a fight.

This adventurer was either stupid or extremely competent (or maybe even both) and either way it seemed like Katria’s best chance of seeing the truth of the aetherium forge, so she’d do her best to keep her safe.

The duo fought their way past a couple of dwarven spiders (she was dead and they still gave her the creeps) and passed a few dead falmer. (No liviving ones yet. One could hope they’d all been killed in the quake alongside Katria herself, but there was no way in hell they’d be that lucky.) Eventually they reached a door with a strange dwarven mechanism.

“See those?” Katria asked.

Hectae nodded at the strange things- like some kind of fan on a screw sort of thing, like a toy that you might spin to launch into the air, but all made of dwarven metal with strange glowing blue circles in the center of each.

“Those are Kinetic Resonators. You don’t see them very often among the dwarven clans in Skyrim. Just hit them and they’ll do… whatever it is they’re supposed to.”

Hectae drew her mace (god that thing was creepy) and swung full force into the resonator, causing it to spin wildly up the twisted pole.

A loud creak echoed through the caverns as a staircase opened up.

The duo continued onwards, fighting their way past numerous falmer and the occasional dwarven mech. Katria alternated between a ghostly echo of her old bow and daggers, as Hectae waded straight into the thick of combat, swinging her mace wildly with one hand and chucking flames about with the other.

“Might want to be a little more careful, They may not be able to hurt me anymore, but the falmer are known to use poisons, and I’d hate for you to die before we can figure this out.”

Hectae just drew a small vial out from… somewhere, again. “Falmer ear and slaughterfish egg or troll fat fixes that well enough. It’s actually really cool how the process works to magically isolate the different properties,”

Katria recognized the tone of voice as the same one many of her colleagues (well, former colleagues now) would use when they got onto a rant about their particular research that nobody else could understand, and just tuned out, nodding every so often.

She froze as they entered into a larger cavern, far closer to the surface- plants were growing here, roots still recovering from the quake, sunlight streaming down clearly to illuminate the whole space, and, sitting on a log sticking out over the vast chasm, was her bow.

This was where she fell, screaming, desperate, terrified-

“Hey.” Hectae gently mumbled near her. “You good?”

“Here’s where I fell. Feels like ages ago.”

Hectae looked at her with an unreadable expression (Confusion? Concern? Pity?) and made an attempt to pat Katria on the shoulder, though her hand went straight through.

“There’s my bow, out there on the log.” Katria pointed, and Hectae nodded, scrambling out onto the log to go collect it.

After she grabbed the bow, Hectae walked towards the tunnel forwards, towards the tonal lock that activated the earthquake and sent Katria to her death, whose other traps had killed adventurers both before and after her.

“Here we go.” Katria mumbled as she followed Hectae into the vast open space.  
The tunnel opened up into a huge cavern, the focus point of which was a wall with five resonators around a carved face, well above a set of firmly sealed gates.

“This is a lock- a tonal lock. Simple, and very, very deadly. Hit the resonators up there in the right order and the path forward should open. Get it wrong and well… You saw what happened to me.”

“Looks like that’s not the only way it can kill you.” Hectae murmured, crouching over a rotting, nearly-skeletal corpse littered with dwarven bolts, looking up to where sure enough, Katria could see a pair of dwarven ballista in the ceiling where the bolts presumably came from.

“You can pick up where I left off, my notes should be in my journal. Beyond that, well, maybe our predecessors have something of note on them.”

Hectae nodded, setting about figuring it out as Katria just sat back and watched.

Within a few minutes (Several of which were spent scrambling around the room searching for nonexistent clues in every nook and cranny) Hectae stood in front of the gates, pulled out Katria’s bow and a quiver full of arrows, and took aim.

And missed the resonators.

And missed again.

And again.

Finally she hit the first resonator out of the five, flicking her tail with excitement and bouncing on her toes for a second before continuing.

After far too many wasted arrows, and waiting far too long for Hectae to gather up each and every last one she could, the two of them went forward past the gates.

Katria stepped forward into the room beyond. She could scarcely believe she was finally here. Meanwhile, Hectae was running around grabbing various things and putting them away with her suspicious lack of pockets, but Katria only had eyes for her goal.

On a small podium sat a shard of blue crystal, delicately carved and shaped, broken off with smooth edges, like it was broken away cleanly from a larger whole. It almost seemed to glow, dancing with subtle patterns in the brilliant blue of a cloudless sky, of Hectae’s eyes, a blue almost too bright to be real.

“Oh, cool!” Hectae wandered over to the podium, flapping her hands in front of her at the sight of the Aetherium Shard. “What’s that?”

“This shard… it’s.. It’s part of a key, a key made of pure Aetherium. The key to the Aetherium forge!” She hastily explained what she’d discovered, pointing out in her journal the suspected locations of the other shards.

“Once you’ve gathered them all,” Katria continued, “I’ll meet you here.” She pointed to the suspected location of the forge itself.

Hectae smiled up at her. “I’ll see you there then!” She turned to walk away, back towards the entrance, and Katria found herself slipping into the less solid form she inhabited when alone in the ruins, waiting for someone else to come along. 

This time though, she had something else to wait for- This time, she had hope.


	4. Chapter 4- Dartheekus 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dartheekus is rescued from the clutches of the falmer by a very... unusual adventurer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been reading every scrap of lore on argonians that I can find and here's where it actually starts to come into play.

Dartheekus was so fucked, so fucked, so fucked. He’d just wanted to go swimming by the falls, perhaps catch some nice fish and gather some herbs so he could share some of his traditional meals with the other miners, maybe make a celebration of it-

Hist knows they needed a reason to celebrate, given the way things had been going in Skyrim lately.

But not long after he’d gotten to the falls, while he’d still been contemplating exactly what he could catch and bring back and what he might want to make out of that, several falmer had poked their heads out of a nearby cave. He’d tried to leap into the river and swim away, but one of them had thrown a net over him and another had shot him in the ankle before he could get anywhere, and they’d dragged him into the cave.

They’d locked him up here, this tiny, half-flooded cell beneath what he presumed was their main room. At least there was a grate looking up into the main room across the cell’s ceiling so he could keep tabs on his captors, but on the other hand all he could see was falmer pacing back and forth, and he could hear them chittering about god knows what.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been down here, but it was long enough that the pangs of hunger clawing at his stomach had dulled when no food had been forthcoming, long enough that he’d been forced to drink the water dripping down the sides of the hole and hope it was safe, and the falmer had made no move to feed or interact with him in all that time.

He only hoped that sooner or later they’d do something- even killing him would be better than just waiting for him to starve- and that nobody else from Darkwater Crossing would get themselves killed trying to rescue him.

So when he heard screams and crunches and the shrieks of charuses, he just pleaded to the Hist that it wasn’t anyone he knew, that it was just some poor bandit who’d wandered in here by mistake, not someone else dragged in here to suffer, not one of his friends come to rescue him.

Everything went quiet. Even the falmer seemed to still-

A shriek.

Several Falmer ran over the grate, out towards where he’d heard the noises-

More screams, falmer or otherwise he couldn’t tell.  
A single set of footsteps- they sounded heavy, like metal boots, the Falmer never wore metal, he could only hope-

An Argonian face peered over the grate. A woman, with brilliant orange and red markings, sky-blue eyes, and stunning orange gillflaps. She didn’t have any obvious signs of which of the Hist she might be from- not that many would, this far from the marshes.

“You have questions?”, he asked in Jel, the argonian tongue.

She merely tilted her head in response. “I’m sorry?”

Huh. Dartheekus supposed it was possible for an Argonian to not know their mother tongue- they could on occasion be born outside the marshes, some female argonians could feed their young successfully without need for the Hist- but even so, why would they not teach their child the language? And without an Argonian parent or the Hist, how could she have possibly survived at all?

Well, concerns for when he was not locked up at the bottom of what was presumably a well.

“I am Dartheekus, from Darkwater Crossing. I should have known better than to swim all the way out to the falls- Please, get me out of here!”

She nodded. “Hectae.” 

Hectae walked out of Dartheekus’s sight, and he wondered- who exactly was she? An Argonian who didn’t know Jel, whose facial expressions seemed to be missing something, who was strong enough to fight her way past an untold number of falmer and charus- Who was she?

He saw her descending down the stairs that lead to the level his cell was on, coming over and dropping to a knee with lockpick in hand without a moment of hesitation.

Within seconds the lock clicked open, and she stood up to open the door. “Alright! Do you know how to fight?”

“Uh.” Dartheekus paused. “I can fire a bow decently well.”

Hectae nodded, turning to walk up the stairs. “Give me a second.” 

Dartheekus followed her up there, waiting for a second as she pried a falmer bow out of the cold dead hands of its owner, before pulling an ample supply of iron arrows out of seemingly nowhere to hand to him.

“In case we run into any trouble on the way out.” She explained.

It didn’t take long for the two of them to make their way out of the caves, the few remaining falmer dispatched with a combination of Hectae’s brutal macework, and a few well-placed arrows from Dartheekus himself.

It was dark by the time they’d gotten outside, and Hectae stared up at Skyrim’s northern lights for a couple of seconds, rolling her shoulders back, before immediately setting off down the river. 

“Let’s get you back.” She said, without so much as a glance backwards.

Dartheekus should have known things were going a little too well to be real.  
They’d arrived back at Darkwater Crossing without further incident, sure, but what they had arrived to-

A dragon was sitting right on the fucking farmhouse, breathing fire at the guards below, before taking off to hover above the guards who were desperately unloading their quivers at it.

Hectae just grinned, rushing forward, and flinging fire spells into the air with all the aim of a drunken turkey, but where her spells did hit they left deep burns on the dragon’s flesh.

A lucky hit of a flame spell to its wing caused it to fumble, and then-  
“FO!” Hectae screamed, and a torrent of frozen air sprung forth from her mouth, coating the beast’s wing in ice and forcing it to land-

She jumped onto its head as it thrashed, grabbing hold of one of its horns with one hand, and bashing it with her mace with the other, bashing over and over and over-

Until its head jerked back in a final desperate flail before falling still.

Once again, Dartheekus was struck with the same thought as before- Who was this woman?

She stepped back from the dragon, all the guards standing in awe, as the dragon’s skin and flesh burned away in a strange ethereal flame-

A swarm of brilliant lights burst forth from its corpse, swarming around Hectae and being absorbed into her.

“How-” One of the guards stuttered, “How, what was that?”

Hectae tilted her head, looking up towards the mountains in the distance.  
“I’m the dragonborn.”

Oh, Dartheekus had so many questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cannon didn't give this boy any characterization so I'll do it myself.


	5. Chapter 5 - Dartheekus 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dartheekus makes a big decision, and Hectae makes a friend.  
> And then they both stumble headfirst into some of Hectae's sensory issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hectae: *displays an autistic/ADHD trait or behavior*  
> Dartheekus, who has no idea what either of these are: Is that a dragonborn thing??

She was the dragonborn.

This odd argonian woman who fought the falmer without a trace of fear, who attacked a dragon with ridiculous fervor and ferocity, was the dragonborn.

Well.

Dartheekus guessed most of the other stuff he’d observed about her kinda made more sense in light of that revelation- It made sense that a mystical warrior of prophecy would be a little odd.

But well, he was curious by nature. For all the trouble that had gotten him into in the past, he still couldn’t let something-someone- so interesting just walk away.

“You’re the dragonborn.” He said, amazed. “The warrior of prophecy. Did you- did you just absorb that dragon’s soul?”

Hectae dipped her head, pulling out a knife and kneeling down to strip the few intact scales off of the dragon’s bones. “Mhm.”

Dartheekus walked up to watch her harvest the scales. He had to wonder though, what was she harvesting the scales for? He’d never heard of any uses for them, what could it be? Armor? Potions?

“Dunno really.” Hectae mumbled.

Ah, he said that out loud. (Well, he presumed the dragonborn couldn’t read minds. Really, he couldn’t rule that out but it seemed unlikely.) “What do you do with them then?”

“Keep em?” Hectae said, gaze never straying from her task. “Dunno. I like collecting things that look cool. And shiny or colorful things. Like gems. Or gold. Or ingots. Or books. I like collecting books.”

Didn’t dragons typically keep piles of treasure in the legends? Perhaps the dragonborn was draconic in themselves, after all, to hunt a beast you have to know how it thinks and where it will run to.

He waited for Hectae to finish harvesting the scales and selecting a couple of bones to tuck away Hist knows where.

He- he was scared, he had to admit that to himself first. The experience with the falmer was undoubtedly terrifying, he was frightened for his life.

But at the same time. He’d felt… powerful, brave, heroic, shooting at them, even behind Hectae’s ferocious frenzy. Like he could be something incredible, do something more than mining and fishing until he got too old or injured to work and was inevitably reduced to begging when whatever he managed to save ran out.

And he couldn’t ignore how he felt safe around Hectae, seeing her incredible skill and strength turned to protect him and his village.

...He’d made his choice.

“Hectae?”

“Hm?” She tilted her head, her body still angled away from him.

“I think. No, I’m sure. I want to travel with you on your adventures.”

She turned to face him fully now, mouth hanging slightly open, her eyes meeting his for what was probably the first time.

“R-really?”

He prepared himself to back up his statement. “Yes, you- you showed me that I can fight back against the evils in Skyrim, even in such a short time you, you made me believe I can be something more, and I want to do more, to-”

“Yes! Yes! You can totally come with me!” She smiled- wider than he’d seen on her before- flapping her hands wildly in front of her chest. “I think- I think you’re plenty brave and cool and you helped fight even though I’d just rescued you and you were probably very scared and!” She just… chirped? And continued flapping her hands.

He tried mimicking the flapping motion- maybe it was a cultural thing for some small Hist tribe he’d not heard of and that was why her body language was off?

She responded to his mimicry with stunned surprise and happier, more intense flapping, so, probably not a thing she expected anyone else to do.

Maybe it was a dragonborn thing? Like imitating the wing flaps of dragons or something? 

Hectae finally stilled, drawing her hands against her chest, lightly rocking back and forth for a few seconds. “We need to stop by Whiterun first.”

“Hm?”

“I… I have another friend there, and you need armor so you’ll be safe. And I need to put away stuff I’ve grabbed. And use some of the ingredients I gathered. Very important. And you need a good bow. We can buy that there. Do you want any other weapons? I could try to show you how to use them.”

“I.. I don’t have much money. I can’t-”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make stuff. Or buy stuff. Don’t worry.”

Dartheekus paused. “In that case. I’ve always wanted to know how to use a sword- I’ve never had the time or money to spend on one, bows were always the cheapest option and the best for hunting with.”

Hectae nodded. “Okay. I can do that. Okay.”

Hectae was… strange, to say the least, but she was also incredible. Brave, strong, generous, and so, so amazing.

Amazingly frustrating that is.

Well, he shouldn’t be harsh. It’s not that he actually dislikes her, or regrets his choice to leave and travel with her, but still.

Does she seriously need to pick every plant with a medicinal or remotely alchemically interesting purpose between here and Whiterun? Or jump around catching random butterflies and moths?

Moths. That brings another thing to his attention.

“When are you planning to set up camp? It’s dark now, we aren’t going to reach Whiterun anytime soon.”

She paused. “Oh. Yeah. Sleep. That’s a thing I need to do. I’m tired.”

Dartheekus resisted the urge to sigh. “Yes. So am I.”

Hectae paused. “Okay. Let’s get to the top of this ridge, there’s more space. Then we can set up.”

Dartheekus nodded.

It only took a few minutes for the two of them to finish the winding path to the top of the ridge- Dartheekus had to take a moment to just… stare. The moons were both full, illuminating the lands, and he could see so far from here. Moonlight danced across all the waterways of the rift- Hell, he could see Darkwater Crossing from here!

Hectae pulled a pair of bedrolls out from again, Hist knows where, (She didn’t have any visible bags or pockets? Where was she putting everything?) and laying them down on the ground between a pair of trees. She wedged a large branch between the two tree trunks, and slung a spare blanket over it.

“Okay. There’s a sleeping space.”

Dartheekus turned towards her, smiling. “Alright, what’s for dinner then?”

Hectae just shrugged. “Fish, I guess? I have some spare if you need some?”

“Just plain fish?” Dartheekus asked, “Seriously?”

Hectae looked taken aback. “Is that. Is that bad?”

Dartheekus sighed. “I guess not, if you really like it better that way. But I fail to believe you actually do!” He started setting up a fire. “Here, show me the herbs you have. I’m sure I can whip up a decent spice mix.”

Sure enough, Hectae had enough fresh, fragrant herbs to make a nice flavor rub. She pulled several whole fish out as well, frozen with ice magic, and set to deboning them with the same calm focus Dartheekus saw from her in battle, only pausing to insist Dartheekus leave some of the chunks of fish plain before he cooked them

Well, he wouldn’t be the one to eat the unflavored fish, so her loss he supposed. Hadn’t heard of anyone who preferred unflavored meats before, unless it was very high quality fish or fish directly from the river eaten raw, which this definitely was not.

Soon they’d set up a fire and cooked the fish, and then both settled down with a small bowl- Dartheekus of flavored fish and Hectae with plain. 

Dartheekus sighed, and made another attempt.

“Come on, just try one piece! If you don’t like it, that’ll be the end of it-” (lies, he’d just try to find a mix she did like.) “but please, at least give it one chance. Hrefna loves my cooking you know.”

Hectae finally, reluctantly, reached out and took a piece from his bowl, hesitantly sticking it into her mouth.

She chewed for a couple of seconds, and then suddenly spit it out.

“Is it that bad?” Dartheekus thought he’d gotten the mix right, it had tasted fine to him-

“It- it-” Hectae seemed… really upset? More than just bad food could possibly warrant? “Texture. Bad. Crunchy. Can feel bits of cooked herb. Bad. Wrong, bad texture, it just. Feels awful. Tastes… okay, maybe? I can’t. I. The texture is bad.” She scraped bits of herb off of her tongue with a claw, setting her bowl of fish aside. “I’m not hungry.”

Hm. Well, at least he didn’t screw it up completely and accidentally poison her and himself or something. He supposed Hectae was just a very picky eater, Hrefna in particular didn’t like shellfish at all, so he supposed perhaps sometimes certain foods were just like that for certain people. If the texture bothered her that much, then herbal rubs were certainly out of the question.

He’d just have to find something Hectae would like, so she wouldn’t have to eat bland food all the time.

Speaking of Hectae, she seemed to be watching him very closely. 

She spoke hesitantly, quietly. “You aren’t upset, right?”

Dartheekus was taken aback. “No, of course not! If anything it’s my fault for not asking why you were hesitant, it’s no offence on my cooking- sometimes people just don’t like certain things, no matter how expertly made. Ah, not that I’m an expert chef of course, I just like to cook for the others at Darkwater Crossing a lot-”

“Thanks.” Hectae said. “You tried to do something nice, and even though it didn’t work, it still makes me feel good knowing you tried.”

“What, have people not tried cooking for you before- it’s no effort to prepare some extra herb mix.”

“It still… still means a lot to me.” Hectae looked up, meeting his eyes for a quick second. “Thanks.”

Dartheekus smiled back at her. “Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What little characterization we get of Dartheekus in cannon is that he went out to the falls to try and get some rare fish, and that the one kid in Darkwater crossing misses him when he's gone and he teaches her to swim, and quite frankly he just seems like a total sweetheart.


	6. Chapter 6-Lydia 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia takes notice of a change in Hectae's routine with her latest trip to Whiterun, and decides to try something different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little less focused on Hectae herself than usual, but the other characters do need to get acquainted at some point.

It had been a while since Lydia had last seen Hectae. She’d drop by Whiterun about once a week, sometimes less frequently, with stories of bandits and falmer and various caves she poked around in. She’d dump vast quantities of pelts and ores and gemstones in chests around the house, only a few of which would ever be used for smithing.

She’d always go to dragonsreach, and inevitably annoy Farengar by using his alchemy station for hours on end, with a vast supply of random herbs and butterfly wings, before poking at the enchantment table for anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours. She’d then swing into the market, sell half the potions she just brewed, and buy vast quantities of food, metals and gems, most of which would inevitably end up shoved in some nook or cranny at Breezehome.

One thing Hectae had never done in all her trips however, was let Lydia, or anyone for that matter, accompany her. Lydia had given up on asking after the first few times-

But eventually, Hectae, exhausted and just having finished a long lecture that Lydia only half-heard about nirnroot, told Lydia why that was.

She’d told Lydia that being around other people was… exhausting for her. That she always felt pressured to behave in ways that made her uncomfortable, to not be herself, to look them in the eyes and stand still and stay on task and not talk about things too much. She told Lydia it was just easier to be alone, because then it didn’t matter how much of a freak she was, how hard it was to be around her.

Lydia hadn’t known what to say- she’d had a bottle or two of mead herself at that point in the night, and Hectae had seemed so sad, but Lydia didn’t know how to comfort someone short of the generic pep talks she gave younger guards or a reassuring hand on the shoulder, and neither of those seemed sufficient, or even like something Hectae would appreciate.

So to say Lydia was surprised when Hectae showed up at the gates of Whiterun accompanied by a nervous green-scaled argonian would be an understatement.

Hectae spotted Lydia, bouncing on her toes in a way she always did when she got really into an explanation, or really happy with a new enchantment she’d figured out.

“Lydia!” Hectae flapped her hands in front of her, darting over towards Lydia, the argonian behind her staring at all the different storefronts and bustling guards as he followed.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Hectae.” Lydia smiled. “Who’s this with you?”

The argonian in question stuck out a hand for Lydia to shake, one she gladly returned. “Ah, my name is Dartheekus. Pleasure to meet you ma’am.”

“I’m Lydia.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t bother yourself with formalities if you don’t want to.”

He nodded timidly as Hectae walked into Breezehome to go through her usual routine of dropping stuff off. “Any friend of Hectae is a friend of mine,” Lydia continued, “though frankly I’m surprised.”

“Why?” Dartheekus asked.

“She doesn’t.” Lydia paused to think. “She typically doesn’t do people, you know? Keeps to herself more often than not.” She sighed. “Lot of the guards aren’t exactly fond of her, say she comes off as suspicious, but that’s just how she always acts.”

“I’m not surprised the guards wouldn’t like an argonian.” He huffed.

“Hey, Whiterun guards are some of the best in the realm.” Lydia said. “Frankly, as wrong as they are, I get it- anyone but Hectae acting like that, I’d be suspicious too.”

Barely audibly, Dartheekus mumbled, “Even if they were a nord?”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Lydia raised an eyebrow. “The guards of Skyrim aren’t-”

They were cut off there as Hectae emerged from Breezehome, and waved in their general direction before turning towards Dragonsreach.

Several seconds passed in silence.

“...Anyways.” Lydia said. “It’ll probably be nightfall by the time she’s done, want to head to the Bannered Mare for a couple rounds while we wait?”

“I guess.” Dartheekus meekly followed as Lydia grabbed a pair of seats and paid for some ale for both of them.

Hectae had gone straight from the shops to the forge around sundown, pausing only to pick up a few items from Breezehome. 

She pulled Dartheekus over, taking a couple of quick measurements before sitting down in front of the leatherworking bench.

Adrianne stuck her head out the window of Warmaiden’s, hollering, “If you aren’t done by midnight so I can get some sleep, I’ll drag you away from the forge myself, got it?”

Lydia nodded at her. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t keep you up.”

Dartheekus raised a brow ridge at Lydia.

“Hectae tends to lose track of time when she gets wrapped up in something.” Lydia explained. “Farengar nearly punched her one time when she told him she’d be done with the enchanting table in an hour, and then she spent three hours there without noticing how much time had passed- or even that he’d been trying to get her attention for several minutes.”

Dartheekus chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve known a couple of people who get like that when they really get to work. One of the miners who worked at Goldenrock mine when I first came to Skyrim had to be reminded to stop and eat.”

“Yeah, I could see Hectae doing that.” Lydia added. 

They paused to let Hectae get some more measurements, as she went to hammering iron studs into the leather.

“How did you meet her, in any case?” Lydia asked. “I’ve never seen her so comfortable around someone.”

“She rescued me.” Dartheekus said, looking towards the horizon. “I went out to a nearby set of falls to try and catch some rarer fish, and got captured by Falmer. She rescued me, and I.” 

He paused. “I want to be able to protect people. I want my life to mean something, you know?”

Lydia rested a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, absolutely. That’s the exact reason I joined the guard.” 

She shrugged, adding, “I didn’t exactly expect to end up as Housecarl to a dragon-slaying argonian woman, but that’s how life goes sometimes. We get dealt a wild hand- but it’s what you do with that hand that really matters.”

Dartheekus smiled. “Do you think you could show me how to use a sword?”

Lydia grinned. “Hey Hectae-” she lightly tapped the bench where Hectae was working until she got her attention. “Done with the measurements?” 

Hectae nodded, flicking her tail as Lydia turned away.

“Alright then, let’s get started.” Lydia took a few steps back, picking up a stick to toss to Dartheekus. “First, let’s see what you’ve got.”

The next morning, Hectae presented Dartheekus with a set of well-made, lightly enchanted leather armor and a polished iron bow.

Lydia helped show him how the straps on the armor worked- Hectae’s work was truly amazing, the armor fitting him like a glove.

He tucked the bow and a quiver of arrows onto his back, the sword into a sheath on his left hip, and a few healing potions Hectae had given him into a small pouch on the right.

Lydia donned her own armor and sword, as Hectae equipped her own armor- a set of vampire armor retailored to a perfect fit.

Hectae tilted her head. “Why are you putting armor on?” she asked Lydia.

“If you’ll have me, I’d like to go with you and Dartheekus.”

Hectae froze. “Really? You actually want to go with me?”

“As long as you’re okay with it Hectae.” Lydia responded.

Hectae grinned, bouncing up and down on her toes, flapping her hands and wagging her tail. “Yes! Okay! Food! Do we have enough?”

Lydia nodded. “I took the liberty of packing food and a bedroll for myself so it wasn’t anything extra for you to worry about either way.”

Dartheekus smiled. “Alright then, where to?”

Hectae grinned. “We’re going to Raldbthar!”

...Dwarven ruins. Great.


	7. Chapter 7-Dartheekus 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they head off towards Raldbthar, Dartheekus thinks about Hectae and everything he's noticed about her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a while. College.

As the trio set off down the winding path out of Whiterun, Dartheekus hung back. Hectae and Lydia, taking the front, went over the map and debated a couple of different routes. 

He’d never traveled much within Skyrim himself, hell, he hadn’t ever really been in charge of routes, even on the long journey up from Blackmarsh. He figured it’d be better to let the experienced adventurers handle it.

“Dartheekus.” Lydia said. “Here, take a look at this.” Lydia held the map up. “There’s two main routes we can take- Raldbthar is on the other side of a mountain, so our options are to go north or south. South, we’ll be following the same route you two took to get into Eastmarch hold, and then turning north around the falls to go up around the mountain. North, we go around a little more of the mountain and cut across the southwest end of The Pale.”

“North route.” Hectae said. “Haven’t really been over there yet. Want to see it.”  
Lydia sighed. “South route is shorter. We can’t just take the harder route because you’re bored.”

“More hills on the south route.” Hectae countered. “Have to go down and back up again at the falls, and there’s plenty of good spots for bandit ambushes along that path. Small odds that they could’ve gone back to the river tower along that path since we were there, and they have lots of good spots for archery.”

Both turned to Dartheekus for the deciding vote.

“Ah, well.” Dartheekus peered at the map. “There’s a giant camp there I’ve heard of,” He pointed to a spot near the northern route, “but it should be pretty easy to avoid as long as we keep our distance. The south route on the other hand… I think unless we want to go a little further out of our way east and then north to Windhelm before going back west, we end up going through a pretty bandit-heavy area. Anekke complains about it all the time. Plus we’d have to take a little more of an indirect route to deal with the cliffs there.”

“And if we do that,” Lydia continues, “both routes end up being similar lengths.” She sighs. “I guess there’s no major issue with the northern path then.” She shrugs. “We could have gone past Windhelm for supplies without going too far out of our way if we took the southern route. I suppose I’d have to do most of the shopping though, given Stormcloak attitudes, so I’m not too bothered.”

“North route it is then!” Hectae chirped.

The rest of the day passed without major incident- A few of the infamously aggressive skyrim wolves harassed them, Hectae stopped to pick mountain flowers every few feet, Lydia decided to get Dartheekus caught up on all the latest Whiterun gossip out of boredom- so all in all, a relatively normal day of traveling.

“Sun’s setting soon.” Lydia said. “It’s probably best to set up camp now before it starts to get dark.”

Dartheekus nodded as Lydia called Hectae away from the flowers on the side of the path she was meticulously plucking one by one. 

Lydia stepped off of the path a bit. “There’s a good spot to set up here, sometimes the guards will use it when we travel between holds.”

She passed Dartheekus a set of stakes and a tarp, turning towards Hectae. “Grab some branches we can use for a fire while you’re gathering, I’ve got some tinder.”

“Lydia?”

“Hm?” Lydia said, as she started rummaging through her pack.

“Ah, what am I supposed to do here?”

Lydia sighed, and for a second Dartheekus was worried he’d done something to offend her- “Easy to forget I’m not traveling with guardswomen and men. Here, let me show you.”

Lydia guided Dartheekus through the steps of setting up a proper tent. As they were finishing, Hectae returned, arms full of flowers as much as firewood. Once Lydia saw Hectae coming back, she passed him another set of stakes with a slightly smaller tarp. “This one’s for a single bedroll-sized tent, as opposed to a double. Try and get it set up yourself while I get the fire going, alright?”

Dartheekus nodded. “Got it!”

While he set up the tent, he could hear Lydia teaching Hectae how to start a fire without just using magic- something Hectae didn’t seem to see the use of.

“If you’re just going to keep fiddling with your flowers, I’ll just go ahead then.” Lydia sounded frustrated. Dartheekus stopped hammering in the tent stake for a second to hear them both better.

“I am paying attention!” Hectae replied. “I’m trying my best, just… repeat that please?”

Lydia sighed deeply. “Here, just-” Dartheekus could hear wood rubbing against more wood, and resumed hammering in the tent stakes, losing the rest of their conversation to the sound.

Soon enough, all the tents were up, bedrolls were laid out, and there was a fire going.

“Hectae.” Lydia started, “What did you bring for food? I brought preserved stuff, typical guard rations, and it’d probably be smart to save them for later, since they’ll keep and if we can’t light a fire inside the ruins for any reason, they’ll still be fine to eat.”

“Fish, mostly.” Hectae responded. “Grabbed a couple veggies. Got my herbs and stuff.”

She brought out the same herbs Dartheekus had borrowed from her on the way to Whiterun, passing them to him. She then pulled out a few fish, some carrots and two potatoes. “Shouldn’t be hard to make fish and veggie soup.”

“Are you alright with bits of herb free floating in the soup, Hectae?” Dartheekus asked. “I’m not really going to be able to get these down to a fine powder out in the middle of nowhere.”

Hectae paused, setting down her fish deboning knife. She tapped the ground a few times with her claws. “Is there.” She lightly ran her claws over her forearms. “Do you have a way to get the flavor in and take them out?”

Lydia shot Dartheekus a confused look. He mouthed back ‘I’ll explain later.’

“I mean.” Dartheekus paused. “You’d want some kind of strainer. Some thin fabric you could use, putting the herbs in the fabric so they can add their flavor to the soup but still remove them easily later.”

“Like a teabag?” Lydia asked.

“Yeah, exactly!” Dartheekus replied.

Hectae nodded, neatly slicing the sides of fish as Dartheekus talked.

“Might have something like that on hand?” Lydia said. “I tend to keep anything that could be useful in my guard pack as long as it isn’t too bulky. I have an extra bandanna I don’t use, and it should be in this pocket unless one of the guardsmen borrowed it recently.”

Hectae moved onto chopping up the veggies with startling speed before pausing. “The pot.”

“Hm?” Lydia looked up from her pack.

“We forgot to go fill the pot with water.”

Dartheekus broke out laughing. “Whoops.”

Lydia smiled. “Well. That’s certainly an important step.” She tossed a small white bandanna to Dartheekus. “This should work. I’ll go get the water.”

Before long the sun was down, the soup was simmering, and nighttime chill was creeping ever closer around the edges of the campsite.

Hectae kept a close eye on the soup, stirring it while careful not to hit the tied-up bandanna full of herbs too hard. 

She seemed to be lost in thought, but she’d commented on Dartheekus and Lydia’s conversations enough times that Dartheekus had just accepted it.

He still had lots of questions for her, but he’d resigned himself to the fact that most of them probably wouldn’t be answered for a long time, if at all.

Some were almost certainly sensitive topics- Why she didn’t know Jel, didn’t seem to be able to read argonian body language, didn’t seem to know as much about the Hist as an argonian definitely should-

Some, it didn’t seem like even she knew why she did them. Why she didn’t like to look people in the eye. Why she hated certain textures to the point of being practically unable to touch them, why she focused so intensely on certain things and not at all on others, why she did all the little odd movements when she wasn’t around too many people.

But, did it really matter? She didn’t have the normal argonian body language and facial expressions, but it wasn’t that she didn’t emote at all. She had a set of body language all her own that Dartheekus was trying to learn. 

(The way she grabbed her necklace, or the hem of her shirt, when she was scared or worried, tapped things with her claws when she was thinking, bounced on her toes and flapped her hands when happy, the way her tail twitched almost constantly.)

She’d saved him. Inspired him. 

Heroes were exceptional by definition. Someone who stood out above the rest. What did it really matter if she stood out… sideways, so to speak, as well as above?

(He just hoped she understood that too.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the RWCW writing guild- for helping me get back into the rhythm of writing, for being one of my very few social outlets in this time of plague, for giving me cool ideas, and generally for being a bastion of positivity and happiness.  
> It definitely would have been a heck of a lot longer before coming back to this fic without you guys-  
> And it's some of you who inspired me to start writing my own fics in the first place.  
> Thanks y'all.  
> ^v^


	8. Chapter 8-Eldrun the Stormcloak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Really getting the outsider part of this outsider POV tag. Hectae's group works well with her, but she's never going to not be weird from an outsider's perspective.

Of all the places to be deployed, it had to be the Pale. The only thing nearby that couldn’t be handled just as well straight from Winterhold was the Nightgate Inn- and really, did one inn matter in the grand scheme of things? 

Did there really need to be a Stormcloak base this close to Winterhold, across a frozen river from any road people actually travel on, uncomfortably close to two entire dwarven ruins?

When Eldrun had signed up to be a Stormcloak, he’d been expecting, well, a little more excitement? Heroics? Fighting back the Thalmor? 

Something other than sitting in the freezing cold for days on end?

As if that wasn’t enough, given that he’s the youngest and most inexperienced here, Eldrun was perpetually stuck on lookout duty. Sitting alone. In the cold. All the time.

He heard footsteps crunching through the snow.

Vannigan came up behind him, holding two tankards of warmed mead.

“Hey kid.” Vannigan sat down on a stool next to him, passing him a drink. “What’cha thinkin about.”

“Why on earth Ulfric sent us out here! Nothing interesting happens here. There’s nothing to do!”

Vannigan chuckled, taking a sip of his own tankard. “I know you won’t take me seriously, but listen, the quiet is actually a blessing. In war, interesting usually means someone trying to stab your guts out.”

Eldrun sighed, lifting his spyglass to scan the horizon again. “Yes. I am incredibly blessed that Ulfric sent me out here to have all the night shifts to watch, oh, wait for it, a lake and a bunch of snow. Real blessing.”

“Okay, the night shifts may not be part of the blessing.”

Both of them chuckled.

As Eldrun turned to scan the western path, he paused. A trio of figures were walking forward, outlined in dark brown against the snow and dirt. “Might’ve spoke too soon, three figures coming our way.”

“Only three?” Vannigan raised a solitary eyebrow. “Definitely not stormcloaks then, they’d bring a whole platoon if they were coming this close to Winterhold. Merchants or travelers would take the main road, hunters probably wouldn’t be coming west from Whiterun hold, hunting there’s much better. Adventurers I’d bet, given the dwarven ruins near here.

Eldrun sighed. “Adventurers. Always a handful.”

Vannigan chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Eldrun and Vannigan sat out together chatting long enough for the presumed adventurers to come into view- a pair of argonians, one red scaled, one green, along with a nord woman in typical guard gear, sans helmet.

The red scaled argonian was very clearly wearing modified vampire armor.   
“Yep.” Vannigan sighed. “Definitely adventurers.”

The two sat sipping their drinks in silence as the adventurers got closer.

Vannigan leaned over. “Here, lemme teach you something, now that we can see ‘em clearly. You see anything special about the way any of them react to another?”

Eldrun shook his head.

Vannigan pointed to the red-scaled argonian. “I’m willing to bet that they’re the one in charge or at least the best fighter. The other two keep their eyes on them, and seem to be following their movements. I’d also bet that as they get closer to us, the nord lady is gonna take charge, given that she seems to be a hold guard and is probably the best choice for dealing with stormcloaks. It’d be a good example for learning how to read your foes.”

Eldrun nodded, peering through the scope again.

Sure enough, he could track the change in who took the lead as they got closer.

“...Wait a minute.” Vannigan spoke up. “I know her! That’s Lydia!”

Eldrun lowered the scope. “Lydia?”

“Yeah. She’s one of the best guards in Whiterun, I worked there a bit before joining up with the Stormcloaks while I was hopping between holds.”

A loud “You talking about me?” called forth from the trio as they approached.

“Ah, Lydia.” Vannigan said. “The lady, the legend.”

She snorted. “You’re one of the temp guards from a while back, right?”

He nodded. “Vannigan. This kid here is my buddy Eldrun.”

“Hectae and Dartheekus with me.” 

She grinned, setting a hand on the red scaled argonian’s shoulder. “You heard the recent news out of Whiterun?”

“I heard the dragonborn showed up.” Vannigan responded. “Heard you got to meet them personally too.”

“She’s right here, in fact!” Lydia patted the argonian woman on the shoulder, moving to cross her arms as the argonian shrugged her hand off. “This one’s Hectae. Dartheekus here is a friend of hers I’ve been teaching to fight. He’s a damn good shot with a bow already though.”

While they quickly descended into the classic guard smalltalk about who’s taken an arrow to the knee recently and miscellaneous petty crimes, the others broke off into a conversation of their own.

“...The dragonborn’s an argonian?” Eldun said. “That.. kinda sounds fake.”

“Hey,” Dartheekus shot back, “What does it matter what species the Dragonborn is?”

“Uh.” Eldun paused. “I mean, I guess I just kinda assumed they’d be a nord or an imperial?” He shrugged. “I mean, no offence, but-”

Dartheekus crossed his arms “You better not finish that statement-”

“Did you know,” Hectae cut in, “That mature elk antlers can be used in potions to influence endurance in a number of ways, mostly positive, but immature smaller ones have a number of potential synergistic effects with a great number of poisons instead.”

The tension ebbed away, to be replaced with several seconds of awkward silence.

(Lydia and Vannigan continued talking about the recent issues with weapon-grade metal coming out of Dawnstar.)

“...No, I did not.” Eldun finally responded. “You, uh, an alchemist then?”

Hectae nodded, eyes firmly fixed on the dwarven ruins south on the mountain slopes. “It’s… really cool. Different ingredients bring out hidden tendencies in one another with proper magical coaxing, and some of it is fairly obvious stuff and just like what they do when eaten, but you’d never know that frostbite spider eggs can be utilized to enhance fine motor skills to aid in lockpicking or archery.”

“Cool, cool.” Eldun responded. “You heading into the ruins?”

“Mhm.” Hectae lightly tapped her claws against her knuckles, holding her hands up to her chest. “Talked to a ghost in another dwarven ruin. Wanted to help her finish some stuff. She said a part needed could be found here.”

“Uh.” Eldun didn’t even know how to respond to that.

“...You are aware you never fully explained it to me and Lydia, right?” Dartheekus asked.

Hectae tilted her head down, gently tugging at her necklace. “It may have slipped my mind.”

Dartheekus chuckled. “Yeah. Could you give me the full rundown then please?”

Hectae nodded, launching off into a tale about a ghost named Katria, some creepy dwarven ruins full of mysterious crazy dwarven stuff, her colleague betraying her and claiming credit for her work, and something about some legendary material that only the dwarves knew how to work with.

“That’s the wildest story I’ve ever heard.” Eldun didn’t really know how else to respond. “I mean, you’re the dragonborn, so, uh, I guess this is just kinda normal for you?”

Hectae shrugged with one shoulder. “Didn’t know I was the dragonborn till pretty recently. Things were kinda mundane till then. Lots of stuff like this has happened since.”

He turned to Dartheekus. “This weird as hell for you too?” 

He responded flatly, “It’s Hectae, she attracts all the weird stuff in Skyrim.” A shrug. “...but yeah, kinda.”

With that, Lydia and Vannigan seemed to finish talking.

“Well, good to see you again Vannigain! We’ve got places to be, but hopefully we’ll see you two again on the way out!”

As the trio walked off, excitedly talking to one another, Eldun said, “You weren’t kidding about adventurers being weird.” 

“When am I ever, kid?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The alchemy facts Hectae mentions are actually true in game.


	9. Chapter 9- Lydia 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group's trip into Raldbthar goes without incident until the very end, when a seemingly small issue reveals something much larger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter ended up being way longer than I expected. 
> 
> Potential tw for this chapter- Hectae does have an autistic meltdown, has some potentially harmful stims, and, not having the slightest idea what she's doing or why she's doing it, gets pretty self-deprecating about it. If that's going to bother you, you can skip to the end after Lydia gets woken up and I'll have a summary of the rest of the chapter in the end notes.

Really, Lydia thought, the whole dungeon crawl couldn’t have gone much better. They’d made it through the ruins without incident, thanks to Hectae’s ability to use a shout to dash past traps, Dartheekus’s pinpoint accuracy with a bow, (which was rapidly improving as he got a little more confident in himself,) and Lydia’s own experience with team combat. She’d been able to easily coordinate the other two whenever those creepy little spiders popped out of the pipes, or those strange spheres came to life to try and kill them.

It was pretty evident that neither of them had any idea how to work with a group, but they’d managed to get through the dungeon without killing Lydia or eachother, so she'd count that as a win. She’d seen newbies do worse.

(Oh, she pitied the poor fool who had managed to shoot his officer in the back of the knee in his first combat some years ago.)

Hectae carefully leaned in towards the doors ahead, observing the engravings on the walls and floor. “If this ruin matches the pattern of the few others I’ve been to, this is probably the last room before some sort of treasure room. Probably some nasty guard in there. We’ll need to be ready.”

Lydia nodded, Dartheekus hanging back a bit with bow drawn.

Lydia kicked the door open, a chaurus screeched, and chaos erupted.

She swung her shield forward, a Falmer axe hooking on the rim. A swipe of her sword slashed their arm open. A swift kick sent them to the ground, where Lydia could cut their throat open with ease.

Dartheekus felled another falmer with an arrow before they could reach Lydia, and Hectae was fireblasting a pair of chaurus who were locked behind some kind of gate.

Within seconds, the fight was settled, and Hectae settled into her normal routine of picking every lock in the vicinity and grabbing gemstones and vials of oil out of every chest and storage unit in the room.

Dartheekus went to watch over Hectae’s shoulder, as he often did, and Lydia assessed the room.

It was long and vaguely rectangular. They’d come in on one of the long sides, close to one end. That end had a pair of fenced off areas that looked to have been used for chaurus breeding since the falmer moved in.

Lydia may have been a hardened guardswoman, but seeing Hectae rummaging through the piles of chaurus eggs was not particularly pleasant.

On the other side of the room was a pool of water, some gears and exposed machinery, and some presumably human skeletons.

Across the pool was a raised platform with a menacing statue of what Lydia assumed was a dwemer in full plate armour. Even from across the pool she could tell it was probably about as tall as two grown men, with the rest of its measurements scaled to match.

Opposite the platform was a raised drawbridge, and some pedestals with raised buttons, presumably controls of some sort.

Probably a bad idea to poke at any of them before Hectae finishes up with her looting and takes a look at them.

She waited for a second for Hectae to finish up and come over, and.

Hectae was giving the statue a look. The look that Lydia had learned meant that Hectae was wary of it.

...Given what the dwemer were like, she’d bet a hundred septims that the thing wasn’t actually a statue and was instead some kind of elaborate trap.

“Okay, so I think this is what’s going on.” Hectae started. “The button there is probably gonna lower the bridge so we can get across, and there’s definitely something valuable over there, but, ah, I know that because…”

She sighed. “Because that thing over there is a dwarven centurion, they come to life, and they’re super hard to kill, and the dwarves only put them near stuff that’s really worth guarding.”

Great. Of course. Everything has to be a trap in dwarven ruins, of course.

“You guys ready?” Hectae leaned forward over the button.

“I mean.” Dartheekus backed up, scooting to the side a bit with bow drawn. “As much as I’m going to be?”

Lydia nodded.

Hectae pressed the button.

Across the room, powerful gears whirred to life.

And then stopped, a horrible earsplitting grinding echoing throughout the room. Lydia winced, Dartheekus nearly dropped his bow, Hectae _did_ drop her mace to cover her… well, where Lydia presumed an argonian’s ear holes were.

“There’s something caught in the gears!” Dartheekus screamed over the horrible grinding. “I think it’s bones?”

Lydia sheathed her sword. She could clearly see something caught in the gears, that did indeed look like bones. There was no way Dartheekus could remove them safely while they were moving, not without potentially getting his own hand caught in there, and Hectae-

Hectae had curled up on the ground, hands over her head, mace forgotten. No help there.

In a spur of the moment decision, Lydia pushed the button again- hopefully it’d stop the gears. Worse case scenario it activates some kind of trap- mentally she was already planning how to get the two out of there if that did happen.

That planning proved unneeded, as the gears stopped, and the grinding ceased.

Dartheekus rubbed at the side of his head, yeah, that was definitely where argonian… ears? Ear holes? Whatever they would be called, were.

He walked over to the gears, pulling loose, sure enough, a disturbingly humanoid femur.

Hectae slowly stood up, grabbing her mace and clutching at the hem of her shirt. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, I’m, I’m sorry, I’m fine, lets.” She twisted up the string of her necklace between her fingers. “Get the bones down. Let’s get the bones out. I’m good to fight.”

Lydia slowly approached. “You sure?” She reached out only for Hectae to flinch away from her hand.

“Please don’t touch me right now.” She looked towards the ‘statue’, her hand moving to the grip of her mace. “Once the bridge is properly lowered.” She tapped her claws across the grip of her mace. “Once it’s lowered. That’s probably when the centurion will activate. The mechanisms are likely dependent on one another.”

While they were talking, Dartheekus pulled the rest of the bones free, situating himself off to the side of the pool with his bow at the ready. “Any tips before we go for this?”

“Uh.” Hectae tilted her head. “Go for the joints. Knees especially. They’re very large, unguarded, they don’t move fast. Elbows second priority, once it’s less mobile. Be careful, it can spray steam. Only in front of it though. Once you’ve got the joints and it can’t move well, then hit the core.”

Lydia and Dartheekus both nodded. Hectae drew her mace with one hand, her other hovering over the button.

Lydia drew her sword. “We’re ready.”

Hectae pressed the button, and the gears whirred to life. The bridge slowly creaked downwards, and steam billowed outward from the pedestal the centurion sat on as it took a small step off the pedestal.

As soon as the bridge was fully lowered, everything erupted into chaos.

Dartheekus’s arrows flew true, but Lydia had no time to commend him, as she rolled under a swing of the massive axe blade affixed to the machine’s hand.

Hectae darted up forward, letting loose a blast of fire directly into the joints, swinging a powerful hit to the side of the leg.

A powerful burst of steam erupted forth, Lydia leaping backwards onto the main floor to dart away. She could see Hectae land in the water below, having dove off the bridge.

The machine chased them around the room, Lydia and Hectae taking turns at drawing its attention to themselves as Dartheekus kept firing away, careful to stay as far across the room from it as possible.

Eventually, it started to slow, one leg trailing limply with each step.

Lydia settled into the rhythm of combat. For all that it was strong, the foe fought with a laughably predictable pattern.

Hectae ran forward, leaping off a table to slam her mace into its shoulder with a powerful dual-handed strike. She rolled forward with her momentum, landing right next to it.

It twisted away from Lydia, towards Hectae.

The distinctive whistle of steam just beginning to escape shrieked out as it prepared to strike.

Hectae lunged forward, swinging with her mace, a powerful blow crushing the damaged plating on the chest, splintering and shattering delicate mechanisms-

But also puncturing a hole in a vessel of pressurized steam, shooting out explosively across her arm. 

The machine crumpled backwards, falling still as Hectae crumpled to the floor, wrapped around her injured arm.

Dartheekus dropped his bow and ran over, Lydia sheathing her sword to do the same.

Hectae slowly uncurled as they both dropped to their knees beside her, as still clutched her arm. Dartheekus took her hands in his as Lydia unhooked her bracers and pulled her sleeve back.

She sighed with relief. “Not too bad. It’s going to be painful to be sure, but there shouldn’t be any lasting damage. It’ll hurt less if you can cool it off before we bandage it, do you have enough precision with ice magic to do that?”

Hectae nodded jerkily, ice magic forming in her off hand and glowing faintly as she brought it around her injured arm.

Dartheekus walked over, as Lydia pulled out a simple paste used to prevent wounds from getting infected, gently spreading it across the burns. Hectae’s claws scraped across the ground as she trembled with the effort of not pulling away from Lydia’s hands.

Dartheekus passed Lydia a roll of bandages, which she carefully wound around Hectae’s arm, pulling it tight before cutting the end and tying it off around Hectae’s arm.

Lydia and Dartheekus tucked away the supplies as Hectae rose to her feet.

“Alright.” Hectae said, holding the wrist of her injured arm tight to her chest. “Alright. Alright. Alright. Okay. Uh.” She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet for a few seconds. “Go across the bridge. Typically no guards left once defeat centurion. Shouldn’t be anything else in there. Probably a very safe place to set up camp. Plus, wanna go loot now. Makes me feel better.”

She set off across the bridge, still holding her injured arm against her chest, Dartheekus and Lydia following her. The massive dwemer metal doors swung open with a tiny push, their perfect balance even after so long a testament to the sheer skill of dwemer architects and smiths.

The room within was lined with shelves, which were stocked largely with ancient books long since destroyed by the elements, but also with a number of bars of pure metal, gemstones, vials of dwarven oil, and a few sealed potions, all of which Hectae immediately grabbed.

Hectae knelt down next to a locked dwemer chest, pulling a lockpick out of her pockets. Within seconds the chest clicked open and she was giggling with excitement as she pulled out a number of gemstones. She grabbed a shining blue gem shard off of a plinth, flapping her hands and chirping with delight as she tucked it away.

Dartheekus had already set about setting up camp, rolling out bedrolls for the three of them and setting up a small firepit by arranging some of the rubble. He pulled out the wood they’d brought in to set up a fire in the ruins and laid it all out, struggling to arrange the differently sized sticks properly to build a good fire.

Lydia knelt down next to him, guiding him through the process of arranging the various sizes of wood and kindling properly. She patted him on the back as the kindling caught and the first tongues of flame started to lick onto the smaller twigs.

Hectae settled down sitting on her bedroll next to the fire, silently passing Dartheekus a few frozen raw fish and the same herbs he’d requested last night. Having done that, she pulled out all the gemstones she’d collected thus far, pouring them from one hand to another while watching them intently with a look of absolute joy gracing her features.

Lydia leaned back onto her own bedroll and smiled. It’d been a while since she’d really been involved in it after she was promoted, but training the greenhorns had been one of her favorite parts of being a guard, and traveling with Hectae and Dartheekus reminded her of what she’d always loved about that.

* * *

After dinner, Lydia fell asleep the minute she was wrapped up in the bedroll, feeling calmer and more accomplished than she had in years.

But no matter how relaxed she felt, years of training were still ingrained in her and it was no surprise when she was woken by noise.

One of the others probably just got up for a snack or something. It’s probably not worth getting up for.

Lydia still sat up, listening a little more closely, just in case it was.

A rhythm of scaly flesh beating against stone, a stifled whimper-

Lydia grabbed her sword, rolling onto her feet, ready for action.

A sharp intake of breath-

A dim magelight shimmered into existence, illuminating the room in a gentle glow. Lydia blinked for a few seconds as her eyes adjusted to the sudden light.

Hectae was curled up in one of the corners of the room, back pressed into the corner, feet tucked under her, injured arm pressed against her chest. Her other arm darted back inwards from casting magelight to clutch her wrist.

Lydia sheathed her sword. Hectae let out another smothered whimper, slamming her tail into the stone wall again and again, before rocking back and forth intensely. Her hands reached back to tug at the base of her horns.

A fight, a dwemer automaton popping up out of nowhere, a young guard crying over someone he’d killed in battle, a dangerous prisoner on the loose- any of these Lydia could have handled in an instant, would have known what to do without hesitation, could have done it in her sleep.

But this… whatever this was?

Lydia was completely lost. 

She knew how to comfort young guards who’d lost someone in battle, who were struggling to come to terms with killing, but it couldn’t be either of those- sad as it was, Hectae didn’t really have anyone beyond her and Dartheekus, and Lydia had seen her kill with a smile on her face when bandits attacked.

Lydia didn’t know what this was or how to help.

Hectae clutched her hands over her mouth, barely choking back a desperate sob, before her rocking intensified, till she slammed her horns into the wall behind her with such force Lydia was scared she’d break them, slapped her tail against the rocks hard enough to bruise over and over and over and Lydia knew she couldn’t just do nothing.

She knelt down in front of Hectae, gently reaching her hands out in front of her. “Hey, hey, let’s stop that, okay? You’re hurting yourself.” She gently, slowly, reached out, making sure to keep her movements even and slow like she was dealing with a spooked warhorse. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? You’re gonna be fine.” Lydia gently cupped her hand behind Hectae’s head, at the base of the skull, slowly leaning her away from the wall.

Hectae jerked at the touch, and for a moment Lydia was scared she’d done something wrong, before Hectae collapsed forward into Lydia’s chest, arms wrapping around Lydia, squeezing her like a vice. Hectae’s claws dug into her so tightly she could feel pinpricks through her shirt.

Hectae buried her snout in Lydia’s chest and screamed.

It was horrible and raspy and pained and awful and Lydia’s own chest ached in sympathy as she gently stroked a hand along Hectae’s back, repeating the same gentle shushing reassurances that always seemed to help the younger guards when they awoke from nightmares.

Lydia could hear Dartheekus stirring from his own bedroll. 

A muffled “Gimmme a minute…” reached Lydia’s ears, and she twisted her head back to see Dartheekus still half asleep with his snout buried in his pillow.

Hectae screamed again, lashing her tail about as she pulled her legs under her, kicking and flailing her way further into Lydia’s lap. Sobs started to spill out, muffled by Lydia’s shirt and chest, half-stifled and desperate.

Dartheekus groggily rolled to his feet, jolting to attention as he actually saw what was going on. “Oh. Oh fuck. Is- Is Hectae okay? What’s happening?”

“I’m not sure.” Lydia responded. “Come over here, don’t touch her but could you check to see if she’s damaged her horns or hurt her tail somehow?”

Dartheekus nodded, hastily stumbling over to drop back down to kneel next to Hectae. “Horns look alright, takes more force than you’d think to fracture them.” He shuffled over towards her tail. “Ohhhh, that might be worse. How did she scratch up her scales this badly?”

“Hitting it against the rocks.” Lydia ran her hand along Hectae’s back again as Hectae’s arms tightened around her.

Hectae pulled her tail closer to her body, tears starting to soak through Lydia’s shirt, and Lydia gently, slowly, wrapped her arms around Hectae to rub her back. “It’s alright, we’re not gonna make fun of you or judge you, we just want to make sure you’re okay. Is it alright if Dartheekus touches your tail?”

Hectae lifted her head, opening her mouth, choking out a few pained noises before snapping her jaw shut again and nodding.

Dartheekus leaned in to look at it more closely. A gentle poke to the spot she’d been slamming into the wall elicited a pained yelp. Dartheekus sighed deeply. “Yeah, definitely a nasty bruise. Nothing broken or serious though.”

Hectae shook off Lydia’s hands, pulling herself out of Lydia’s lap to sit curled up on the floor between the other two. Lydia shifted herself to be ready to move in case-

Well, she didn’t know precisely what she was worried might happen. 

Hectae had quieted down, lifting her head to stare at the wall between Dartheekus and Lydia, opening her mouth like she was about to speak several times, but no sound came out. She let out a frustrated screech and started desperately clawing at the bandages wrapped around her arm, slicing them off and continuing to scratch at the damaged scales beneath.

Lydia was about to jump forward to stop Hectae from hurting herself, but then she opened her mouth to speak.

“I-” Hectae finally spoke, “I, I can’t, it’s, it’s, it, it’s wrong, wrong, wrong, bad, bad texture, wrong, wrong, I can’t, I, I can’t I can’t take it, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Her breath picked up to the rapidfire gallop of panic, before Dartheekus interrupted.

“Would it-” He looked scared too. Lydia was hit with the fact that these two, for all their courage and skill, were still really just kids, just the same as the new guards fresh from basic training. “Would it help if I held your hands or something?”

Hectae nodded jerkily, Dartheekus moved over to kneel directly in front of her and slowly, gently, taking her hands in his. “Do you… want me to try guessing and you can nod or shake your head, or do you want us to wait for you to try and explain on your own?”

Hectae’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly a few times before he added, “Ah, squeeze once for guessing, squeeze twice for wait?”

Lydia saw her hands tighten around his like she was clinging on for dear life, holding for a second before slowly releasing to repeat the process.

“Wait. Okay. We can do that.” Dartheekus nodded

A few minutes passed in near silence, only broken by Hectae’s ragged but slowly relaxing breaths. Lydia lit a torch as the magelight burned out, casting everything in a redder glow that hid the tinge of recent tears in Hectae’s eyes.

Eventually Hectae’s voice broke the silence. “I don’t. I don’t know why I do this. But. Sometimes things are just, wrong, and it’s just… It feels awful, awful, the slightest thing just feels so wrong and bad and, and, and, and-” Her voice wavered close to tears. 

Lydia scooted over to sit next to her, and Hectae twisted to bury her snout into Lydia’s shoulder, hands still resting on Dartheekus’s lap. “It feels like. Like. I can fight and see blood spill and it doesn’t bother me, and, and walk off a knife to the gut, but then a bandage is too tight or my plans have to change or a noise is just _wrong_ or, or, or something tastes different then I expect, or the ointment feels slimy and wrong, and, and and-”

Tears pooled in the deep recesses around her eyes, spilling over her cheekbones and flowing across her scales. “And I just. I just erupt and cry and scream and break things or, or, or-”

A quiet wail echoed through the room. “Why. Why am I like this. How- how am I supposed to beat Alduin? I have to beat Alduin I have to I have to I have to or everything is going to end and it’ll be my fault my fault mine mine but I’m, I’m so… so broken so wrong, how, how am I supposed to do it, I, I. I don’t. Why do I do this! Why can’t I ever understand people! Why doesn’t anyone ever understand me?”

A single, broken whimper. “What’s wrong with me.”

Oh, that was a lot more than Lydia knew how to handle.

Dartheekus seemed just as confused and lost as she was though. (They were both just kids.) She couldn’t let Hectae suffer alone. Lydia might not have had the slightest idea what to do, but she’d become a guardswoman because of that instinct to help, to protect, her inability to let someone suffer when there’s anything she can do.

Even if she ends up doing the wrong thing, she’d rather try and fail then let someone suffer when she can help.

“Listen, Hectae.” Lydia reached her hands up to hold her. “Uh, first, is it okay if I touch you?”

Hectae nodded, the slightest jerk against Lydia’s shoulder. Lydia twisted around to bring Hectae into her arms. “This good?”

Hectae nodded. She opened her mouth, pausing a few seconds before mumbling, “Squeeze me. Please. Helps.”

Lydia hugged Hectae as tightly as she possibly could, and Hectae practically melted into her hold.

“Listen, you’re not broken. And well, even if you are, it doesn’t have to stop you. Lemme tell you this legend- There was this guy, can’t remember the name, but that’s not important. He wanted to be a warrior but he was born with something wrong with his legs, he couldn’t walk for more than a few steps. Everyone told him it was a pointless dream, that he’d never accomplish anything, but the guy never listened.” 

Lydia paused, struggling to remember the full story. “He learned to ride a horse, and his legs could stand up to that. He trained in archery, trained with his warhorse with a single minded devotion, and he became the damn best mounted archer skyrim had ever seen. People say he could work together with his horse in a way nobody else could match, because he had to rely on his horse all the time to get around too.”

She pulled Hectae against her a little tighter. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s okay. Yeah, sure, you suck at some things. Some small things bother you a lot. But that doesn’t have to stop you. You’ve got plenty of things you’re good at too. I’ve never met anyone who can focus on stuff like you do when you’ve got a single task in front of you, never seen someone who can blend magic and weapon combat with the kind of skill you do every day. You just gotta figure out how to use what you’re good at. Most importantly, you’re not alone. Whatever you can’t do, we’ll both be here with you to back you up.”

“And yeah.” Lydia shrugged. “Maybe nobody else is ever going to really get what it’s like to be inside your head. But we don’t have to understand why you need us to do stuff for you in order to help. I’m never going to really understand what it’s like to be an argonian, but I’ll still be here to shout at anyone who’s an ass about it. Dartheekus is never going to really get what it’s like to be a woman, but-”

Dartheekus blurted out “Actually-”

“I’m trying to make a point-”

Hectae interrupted them both with a sudden chuckle. She was laughing and smiling, still curled up tightly in Lydia’s arms, still with tear tracks running down her face, but her entire demeanor had shifted. “Thanks. Thanks. So much.”

“...You’re welcome.” Lydia smirked, turning to Dartheekus. “Okay, so what does that mean exactly?”

“Argonians can switch genders.” Dartheekus said. “I mean. I can’t right now, we’re too far from the hist, and I haven’t since I was a kid, but it is a thing we can do.”

Lydia shook her head with a light chuckle. “I swear I understand less about the Black Marsh with everything I hear.”

“Oh no, it’s definitely weird as fuck compared to the rest of Tamriel.” Dartheekus grinned. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been there though.”

Hectae lifted her head to face him, still looking at the wall behind him instead of his face, but still smiling. “You’ll have to take us. We’ll beat Alduin. Together. And then you can show us.”

Dartheekus gasped melodramatically. “You mean you’ve never been? That won’t do, I’ll definitely have to take you there. Both of you.”

Hectae was still smiling as she settled back down into Lydia’s arms, the rapidfire hammer of her heartbeat slowing to a calm pace as Dartheekus regaled them with tales from his homeland well into the early hours of morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary of what happened after Lydia got woken up- Hectae was having a meltdown, Lydia and Dartheekus don't know how to deal with it but they do the best they can considering Hectae goes nonverbal for some of it, and is barely verbal for the rest. Hectae later talks about the pressure of being the Dovahkiin, and Dartheekus ends up talking to them both about the Black Marsh after she starts to calm down.
> 
> Also, yes, changing genders? That is a thing Argonians can do. Argonians are very funky and I love it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated, you can find me on tumblr as https://dragoninthelabratory.tumblr.com/ and send any comments or questions about my works, or my other OCs and ideas!


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